Wild Ones
by PhoebeSnow
Summary: Sherlock really needs to learn to knock.


**A/N: I know that some of my readers are sensitive to to scenes of a graphic nature. So, just to give you a heads-up, this story is basically shameless smut. Therefor, if you're easily offended or uncomfortable with sex scenes, you should probably click the back arrow.**

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Sherlock took a cab to Molly's flat, tapping his hand against his leg nervously. He was normally cool under pressure, but this was a different story.

Today, he was going to tell Molly how much he loved her.

Sherlock was completely out of his depth here, but he was still determined. Two months had passed since Sherrinford and that awful phone call. Of course, Sherlock went to Molly's flat and related the story behind what that happened on that fateful day. The last thing he wanted was for her to think that he lied when he told her he loved her...because he _did_.

So, yes. He told her about Eurus and the reasons she put them through the psychological torture. Molly was understandably upset, but after listening to him, she understood. It had still been a rough day and she'd asked him to give her some time to herself to sort through everything.

It was difficult, but he did as she asked. Slowly, their relationship got better and Molly let him back into her life again. Although, things were different this time around. Now, they would sometimes solve cases together, babysit Rosie together, get takeaway or go to the cinema. She had even shared a few kisses with him on occasion.

Sherlock and Molly were friends, not lovers, not friends with benefits either. And yet, the romantic feelings they shared hung in the air between them. Every time he tried to get Molly to open up about their relationship or talk about what happened on that awful day, she'd quickly change the subject or say it wasn't the right time.

But after four months, Sherlock decided he'd had enough of Molly putting off their conversation. They needed to talk or else, they'd be stuck in this relationship limbo forever.

After he arrived at his destination, Sherlock paid the cabbie and made his way into her flat, using the key she'd given him years ago - okay, _maybe_ he should have given it back to her by now, but Sherlock kept the key for emergencies, and this was **definitely** one of them.

Once the door closed, he locked it and pocketed the key. "Molly?" A brief glance told him that she wasn't in the living room or the kitchen, so she must have been in her bedroom.

Normally, Sherlock had the decency to knock before entering Molly's bedroom, but he was so focused on talking to her that it didn't enter his mind to rap his knuckle on the wooden door or at least pause and consider _why_ it was closed in the first place.

With a twist of the knob, he was in her bedroom and craned his head, looking around. "Molly? Are you in here?"

" _Sherlock!_ What are you doing?!"

The detective stopped in his tracks. Molly stood in the doorway of her bathroom, dripping wet - having just come out of the shower and was completely _nude_.

Sherlock's eyes widened and he froze in place, staring at the sight before him. He'd stayed at Molly's flat many times in the past, but he'd never been privy to seeing her without a stitch of clothing on her person.

Her damp brown hair stuck to her pale skin and there was a towel in her hand, which she was using to dry herself off with before he came in. Molly's cheeks were tomato red as he satred at her. Sherlock's eyes lowered out of their own volition and he swallowed as her areolas puckered and stood to attention. The sight of the lovely scoop of her belly button, those shapely legs and the dark hair that ran down to her nether region made him very hard.

 _God, you're beautiful._

Molly's eyes widened and her mouth parted, leading Sherlock to realise that he'd just said that aloud.

He felt like an idiot for letting those words slip and he opened his mouth to attempt an explanation, but Molly strode forward and swung her palm to his cheek. The sting was sharp and his head snapped to the side from the force of it.

"Ow!" Sherlock grabbed his abused skin and sent her a withering look. "That was unnecessary!"

"Like it's necessary for you to **barge** into my room without asking to come in first?!" Molly turned away from him to grab the dressing gown she left on a hook on the bathroom door - giving him a glimpse of her pert backside - before turning back to face him again.

Indignation surged through him. "I'm not going to apologise for it! You and I need to have a talk about our relationship!"

"What do you mean? Our relationship is fine."

"No, it isn't! I have no idea where I stand with you, Molly! You say that we're friends, but we spend far too much time together to just be that. You've caused me to become emotionally invested in us and I refuse to keep giving into a relationship that has no definition."

Molly scowled and crossed her arms. "So that's why you came here? To demand an explanation?"

"Yes."

"Well, you're not getting one. Not now, at least. When I'm ready to tell you what we are, I will let you know. Now, please, leave." She went to her wardrobe and pulled out a pair of knickers and a set of pyjamas.

Sherlock slammed her bedroom door shut. "You can't just end this discussion because you don't feel like it! I won't let you toy with my emotions, Molly. Either you tell me what we are right here, right now, or I walk out that door and never come back."

She laughed and glared at him. "You don't have the guts!"

"If you think you have some kind of hold over me, you're wrong. I can cut myself off from you very easily."

"I'm sure you can, seeing as how you're the king of being a cold hearted, selfish **asshole**!"

His eyes darkened. "Take that back."

Molly's lips curled up into a defiant smirk. "Make me."

Sherlock growled and grabbed her to him, pressing his body against hers so she could feel how hard he was. Molly gripped his shirt, her fingernails digging into his skin through the fabric and she moaned. _There._ "This is what you want, right? You wanted me to get sick of you toying with me and come to your flat to fuck you silly. Isn't that the truth?"

"And if I did, so what? You've proven my point. I can manipulate you just as good as you manipulated me all of these years. Now you see what it's like being on the end of the stick. Stings, doesn't it?"

The victorious glare on Molly's face made Sherlock see red and he snapped. He was sick of the lying, the games she'd purposely played with him.

"Shut up," he hissed as he quickly undid the ties holding Molly's dressing gown together and pushed it off her body, revealing her feminine form to him once more. He reached down to cup one of her breasts, lightly squeezing the flesh which made her mewl in pleasure.

"You like that, don't you? You've always wanted me to claim you as mine. Well, now you're going to feel it, too." Sherlock's other hand pushed into her wet core and he flicked the digit against her clit, making her squeeze her eyes shut and cry out.

"You bastard," Molly hissed as she grinded her hips against his finger, pushing him deeper inside. "You don't have the guts."

"Don't I?" Sherlock's eyes glinted dangerously as he picked her up and unceremoniously tossed her onto the mattress.

She yelped in surprise and glared up at him furiously, but he was too busy shucking off his bel staff and scarf. Once those clothes were gone, Sherlock unzipped his pants and pulled his penis out, stroking it boldly.

Molly thought she might drool just looking at him. He was magnificent and the muscles between her thighs clamped down very hard in anticipation of being filled by him. She crawled over to him and pushed his hand away, replacing it with her palm and she rubbed him thoroughly from the tip to the base.

Sherlock thrusted into her hand and threw his head back. "Fuck, Molly."

"That's exactly what you're about to do," she quipped and she lapped at the tiny bead of pre come that formed on his slit. The sudden action made Sherlock shiver and Molly grinned wickedly, switching their positions so she was on top of him. Without hesitation, she lowered herself onto him, making them both groan.

Molly didn't waste any time as she rocked into him, grabbing the headboard with her hands, she continued to push down and roll her hips again and again and again. Her breasts bounced with every motion and Sherlock leaned forward to bite the nipples that begged to be touched.

The pathologist cried out and threw her head back as he put his mouth on her breasts. Sherlock's hands traced a sensual path onto her thighs, squeezing them gently. They may have been having angry sex, but Sherlock wanted Molly to be fully sated after this encounter.

Their bodies slapped together and the bed squeaked as they fucked. Molly removed one hand from the headboard and yanked Sherlock's hair, pulling his face up to hers so she could press a hot, passionate kiss on his lips. He grunted in pain and retaliated by slapping her backside and groping it with his fingers. This changed the angle of his thrusts and forced him even farther inside of her core.

Molly was no virgin, but she hadn't been used to such rough sex before and it heightened her arousal times infinity. She could already feel a build up and her petals began clamping down harder on Sherlock than before. She smirked when he started swearing under his breath as she milked his cock.

Her skin tingled all over, sweat formed on her forehead and she felt an intense pulsing sensation between her legs. It wasn't much longer before Molly came screaming Sherlock's name and even then, she continued to push down onto him, over-stimulating herself, desperate to make him come just as hard as she had.

Thanks to her consistent attentions, Sherlock own climax hit him like tidal wave seconds after her own and he yelled out Molly's name as he filled her with his seed.

For a while, they laid there, enjoying the rush of their orgasm and the sensation of post coital bliss. When Molly felt like she could finally move, she lifted herself - and with Sherlock's help because she was shaken after such an intense climax- off Sherlock's torso and plopped down next to him with a contented sigh.

The brunette smiled at her lover and grazed his cheek with her fingertips. "So, how was that? Good?"

Sherlock laughed and rolled to his side. " _Incredibly_ good. I never knew that roleplay would be so much fun."

"Me neither. Thanks for going along with it. I'm really not the kind of person who does this kind of thing, but this was an interesting fantasy and I always feel safe with you." Molly's eyes sparkled in mischief. "We'll have to try some other scenarios the next time I'm off."

"I agree," Sherlock replied with a wicked grin and he gave Molly a tender kiss.


End file.
